


‘Tis the Damn Season

by molaspacini



Category: Degrassi, Degrassi: Next Class
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M, Holidays, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28320573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/molaspacini/pseuds/molaspacini
Summary: Miles is back in town for the holidays and there’s one person he’s hoping to run into. Set after Season 4 of Next Class.
Relationships: Miles Hollingsworth III/Lola Pacini
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	‘Tis the Damn Season

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eeveepacini](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eeveepacini/gifts), [NotoriousReign](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotoriousReign/gifts).



> A rare deviation from my usual AU Hopeverse, this is set post-canon! Miles is a freshman at university and Lola is a senior at Degrassi.

Miles awoke close to noon one late December day, still feeling jet lagged from his flight from London a few days prior. He could hear his mother playing Christmas music from downstairs and the twins already squabbling about something in the hallway. It felt strange to wake up in his enormous childhood home again, having gotten so used to sleeping on a crappy mattress in his cramped little London dorm. 

Admittedly, Miles had mixed feelings about coming home for the holidays. He was happy to see his siblings and mother and catch up with Chewy, but knowing he was going to have to see his father and make an appearance at the family Christmas party for the press didn’t exactly put Miles in a jolly holiday spirit.

A part of Miles had contemplated feigning an excuse to stay in London for the holidays. Something had motivated him to get on the plane and come home, though...a faint hope that he might run into a certain someone in Toronto. He knew it was largely a fantasy since the two of them hadn’t spoken in months, aside from the letters Miles had sent. He supposed it was understandable he never heard back, given how things had ended between them. Miles just wished he could go back, that he could _change_ things. But real life wasn’t like the stories he wrote — he couldn’t just rewrite the ending into a happily ever after, much as he wished he could.

“Miles! Are you up?”

The sound of Frankie’s voice brought Miles back to reality. She swung the bedroom door open, not even bothering to knock or wait for his answer. “What are you still doing in bed?!”

“Well, I _was_ sleeping,” Miles grumbled, still not fully awake and ready to engage with his family. He’d missed the twins a lot while he was away in London, more than he was willing to admit, but that didn’t change that it was still incredibly annoying to have his siblings just barge into his room like this. At least _some_ things never changed. “What do you want, Frankenstein?” 

Frankie rolled her eyes at the familiar nickname. “Mom needs you to pick up food for the party tomorrow,” she said. “The caterer bailed, something about a last minute Drake concert...so anyway, Mom just went nuts and ordered like, a hundred tamales.”

Miles raised his brow. “Pick up food from…?” 

“Lola’s, duh! Where else would we be able to put in a huge order last minute?”

Miles froze. “Lola’s,” he repeated back to Frankie, stammering slightly. “You want me to pick up tamales from...Lola’s.” 

“Well, I’d put on some clothes first,” Frankie said, tossing him the white tank at the edge of his bed. “I know you two are friendly, but I don’t think Lola wants to see you _shirtless_.” She cracked a smile, like the idea of Lola and Miles being romantically involved was genuinely absurd.

Before Miles could even muster a reply, Frankie’s phone rang. “That’s Esme...I gotta take this.” She hopped off the edge of the bed and closed the door behind her. “See you later, bro!” she called out, oblivious as ever.

Miles rose out of bed and observed his reflection in the mirror, feeling his palms tremble. He smoothed his hair back slightly, wishing he’d gotten it trimmed back in London. He threw on the nicest shirt he’d packed in his suitcase, then took one last look in the mirror to check his appearance. He let out a deep breath, feeling like a million butterflies were in his stomach. 

That faint hope that had gotten him to come home wasn’t so faint anymore. After all this time, he was really going to see her again. _He was going to see Lola._

…..

The Cantina was fairly packed when Miles walked in. In the last couple of years, the place had quickly surpassed The Dot as the most popular hangout among Degrassi students. Miles had only served as a waiter a couple of times, but he still could probably recite the entire menu by heart. A wave of nostalgia rushed over him as he took in the familiar smell of the nachos special, Lola’s favorite.

Miles felt those butterflies in his stomach again. A part of him had sort of begun to wish that Lola wouldn’t be working today. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe too much had happened between the two of them for Miles to just waltz in and casually pick up food like this after their whirlwind romance and its traumatic aftermath. He knew he had basically put Lola through hell and back last year, albeit unintentionally. Besides, he’d heard she was seeing someone new now, that Saad kid. Miles’ heart admittedly kind of sank when he first saw the two of them on Hastygram. Lola looked _happy_ , and Miles wanted her to be happy — she deserved someone who put her first, someone less _complicated_. And Miles knew that when it had come down to it, when he’d had his chance, he hadn’t chosen Lola. At the time, he’d convinced himself he wanted Tristan, but he knew now that he had really just clung to Tris because it was easier, _safer_ than admitting who he really wanted to be with. But it had been the wrong choice, for lots of reasons. When Miles left for Europe last summer, he thought it would be Tristan he’d miss...but it was Lola he found himself still hung up on all these months later. The blue-haired girl that got away. 

“Oh my god, _Miles?_ Is that you?”

Miles snapped out of his trance and his eyes immediately darted to the speck of blue ahead of him. Lola emerged from the crowd, looking perky as ever. Her hair was a darker shade of blue and her bangs were a tiny bit shorter, but other than that, she looked exactly as Miles remembered her. She gave him a warm, albeit slightly hesitant smile. “What are you doing here?”

“Hi, Lo,” Miles said, stammering slightly. He was sure he looked like an idiot unable to stop grinning like this. He’d forgotten just how easily she made him smile. He stepped forward to give her a hug, but she pulled back. That stung, but Miles supposed it was fair enough. “I’m, uh...just in town for the holidays,” he said quickly, trying to shake off the awkward hug attempt.

Lola looked down at the floor. “I didn’t know you were coming home.”

“Yeah, just for a couple of weeks…” Miles was starting to think maybe this _had_ been a mistake. Lola didn’t seem all that happy to see him. He couldn’t blame her really, but he’d hoped he’d be wrong by some miracle. It felt sort of surreal to see her again. There was so much he wanted to say to her, but this clearly wasn’t the time or the place. Timing had never been their strong suit. “Um, how have you been?”

Lola looked up a tiny bit. “Fine. You know, school, work, vlogging...your brother’s _so rude,_ by the way — he put a cap on the number of nail tutorials I can upload to our channel every month. He and Baaz said it was hurting our numbers with male audiences, can you believe that?” 

Miles laughed under his breath. “Hunter and Baaz being twerps. Sounds like nothing much has changed.” 

“Yeah...nothing much has changed,” Lola said, slowly forming a smile. She glanced around at the busy tables and let out a sigh. “Well, I should get back to-”

“Wait. I’m supposed to pick up an order. My mom called in like, a hundred tamales?”

“Oh! Right, Frankie mentioned that. _Lautaro-!”_ Lola called out for the assistant manager, who poked his head out from the counter. “Can you grab the order for _Hollingsworth_? Gracias!” 

Lola ran her fingers through her blue curls, seeming a bit more at ease now than she had a minute ago. Maybe it was because she knew Miles hadn’t just come here to see _her_. “So, um, how’s London?”

“It’s...interesting,” Miles said. He didn’t really know how to describe it. Some days he absolutely loved it, other days he felt like dropping out and moving back. It had been harder to be away from home than he’d anticipated, and the rampant party scene at uni had nearly caused him to relapse. He _was_ happy there, studying what he loved, exploring the city, meeting tons of new girls and guys. But something also just felt like it was missing. Something, or...someone. 

Lola raised her brow. Even after everything that had happened, it seemed like nobody could read Miles better than Lola could. “Are you happy?”

“Mostly,” Miles shrugged. That was close enough to the truth. “And you? How are, um, how are things with Saad?” He could barely get those words out — it hurt just to say them.

Lola’s face dropped. She didn’t look _sad,_ she just looked...blank. “Oh, we’re not dating. I mean, we went out a couple of times, but it just...it wasn’t _there._ It didn’t feel right. I think we’re better off as friends. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a nice guy, but something was just.. _missing_. You know?”

Miles felt his heart speed up. _Lola wasn’t with Saad. Lola didn’t have a boyfriend._ “I know exactly what you mean,” he managed to respond. He was trying not to look too happy, but he couldn’t stop himself from smiling a tiny bit.

Lola returned his small smile. “And, um...how about you and Tristan?”

Miles nearly laughed. “I haven’t spoken to Tristan since graduation.”

Lola’s eyes widened. “Really?” she said, seeming surprised. “I just assumed…” 

“Not a word. I mean...we didn’t exactly talk much when we were dating, either,” Miles found himself rambling. “I don’t think we ever really did. It wasn’t like…” _It wasn’t like with you,_ Miles wanted to say, but didn’t.

Before either of them could say another word, Lautaro emerged with the box of tamales. “Quite the haul there, señor,” he said, handing the box to Miles with a grunt. “What, you having a wedding or something?”

Miles shook his head. “Family party. You know, the holidays…” he mumbled. Lautaro just shrugged and went back to the kitchen. 

Lola smiled teasingly at Miles. “I take it you’re _totally_ stoked for this party?” Again, she could still read him like a book. 

Miles rolled his eyes and smirked. “Oh, yeah. Nothing I’d rather do than stand around in a stuffy suit talking to a bunch of old rich people…”

“Sounds boring. But I kinda wish _I_ had an excuse to dress up all fancy and eat a bunch of food. I’ve never been to a fancy holiday party like that. Christmas is always just me, my dad, and watching _Home Alone_ in our pajamas _._ Not the made-for-TV one, the original. Obviously.”

Miles smiled watching her twirl a loose strand of her blue hair. He’d forgotten how wonderful it felt just to be around Lola. There was just this _glow_ he felt talking to her, even after all this time...something he’d never felt with anyone else. He didn’t have to force the feeling or think about it, it was just _there._ Without thinking, he found himself blurting out, “You should come.”

Lola seemed confused. “Huh?”

“To the party. You should come.”

Lola stared at him like she couldn’t quite gage whether he was serious. “What, as your date?”

“As my…” _Yes,_ Miles wanted to say. But instead he just stood there suddenly unable to speak, as though they were back on stage performing their play and he’d forgotten his lines. For a writer, words didn’t come easy to Miles...at least, not when it came to Lola.

“...friend?” Lola finished the sentence for him. Miles couldn’t read her expression.

“Yeah. My...friend.” Miles wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead, feeling like an idiot now. Why couldn’t he ever just leave things alone? He _couldn’t._ Not with Lola. Not this time. “Are we...still friends, Lo?” he asked, feeling a hard lump in his throat.

“Honestly?” Lola didn’t quite look at him. “I dunno, Miles. Last year was...a _lot._ It took me a long time to get over everything that happened with us. I mean, I had to quit wearing eyeliner because I cried so much.”

Miles felt that sinking feeling in his heart again. He hated the thought of Lola crying, especially the thought of her crying because of _him,_ because he was just a stupid boy who hadn’t appreciated her enough, who didn’t know what he had until it was too late. “I wish I could take it all back, Lola. I’m sorry for...for everything. More than I can ever say.”

Lola shrugged and gave him a weak smile. “This isn’t really the place to talk about all that…” _Obviously,_ Miles thought. Her family’s Cantina wasn’t exactly the proper place for an ‘I’m sorry you had to take an Uber to your abortion because I didn’t listen to you’ speech. “Don’t worry about it,” Lola sighed. “It’s water under the bridge now. I just kinda wish I’d heard from you, after you left.”

“Wait, didn’t you get my letters? I wrote to you back in London. I must have sent like, three or four of them.”

Lola froze. “You sent me _letters?”_

“Yeah, I did. I never heard back though, so I just assumed you didn’t want to hear from me,” Miles said. “Did you not get them? I mailed them all to your house, unless I wrote the address down wrong…”

“Oh my god.” Lola covered her now-pink face in her hands. Miles looked at her with worry, then realized she was _laughing._ “My dad and I moved! Just a couple of blocks down the street, at the beginning of the school year. Business has been really good lately, so we got a bigger place. That’s why I never got them…”

Miles couldn’t help but laugh too now. “Frankie is a _terrible_ messenger,” he said. “She never told me! How was I supposed to know?” He paused for a moment, just taking a second to look at the beautiful blue-haired girl in the front of him as she laughed. He didn’t think there was a soul on the planet who knew him better than Lola did, for better or for worse. He was confident more than ever now that what he said to Tristan the night of the play was true: he _had_ loved Lola. Maybe more than he’d ever loved anyone. What they’d had was so short and messy and imperfect, but it was more real than any other love Miles had ever felt. He was sure of it.

“Well,” Lola said, and Miles noticed a twinkle in her eyes as she spoke, “I guess you’ll just have to rewrite them, then.” She slowly formed a smile, and Miles suddenly felt like the pieces of his universe were snapping back into place.

Miles smiled back. “I guess I will.” Their gaze lingered and for a second it felt like they were the only ones in the Cantina. 

The moment didn’t last long. _“Lola! Are you going to help me with these tables or what?”_ Lautaro called from the kitchen, bringing both Miles and Lola back down to reality.

“I should get back to work,” Lola sighed, glancing back towards the kitchen. “But, um...I’m glad I ran into you, Miles.”

“Me too.” This time when Miles reached for a hug, Lola didn’t pull away. 

Miles grabbed the box of tamales and turned towards the exit. Before he could walk out the door though, Lola called out, “Wait! Miles!”

Miles turned around. “Yeah, Lo?”

“I’d love to go to the party with you.” 


End file.
